


Tear-Stained memories: Ursa Wren

by MandoVader



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, New writing style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandoVader/pseuds/MandoVader
Summary: Time flew by quickly. Ursa wanted that time: time to see Alrich, Sabine, Bo-Katan, once again. Time to say sorry, to treasure their moments together, to be less cold with those she loved.Takes place a day or two after Alrich is taken and imprisoned, but almost entirely consists of memories.
Relationships: Alrich Wren/Ursa Wren, Bo-Katan Kryze & Ursa Wren, Sabine Wren & Ursa Wren, Tristan Wren & Ursa Wren
Comments: 7
Kudos: 6





	Tear-Stained memories: Ursa Wren

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MandoGab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandoGab/gifts), [Xenon912](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenon912/gifts).



> This, whether noticeable or not, is a slightly different writing style for me, so sorry if it doesn’t work so well!

They’d taken him away. 3 days after Sabine, he was gone. All Ursa had was Tristan— not her daughter, her husband, her friend. Not Sabine, Alrich or Bo. If only there had been more time spent with them, more time where she was truly herself.

Time flew by. Went like the speed of light, rushed like the wind in the blizzards on Krownest— it was hard to catch. 

More often than not, Ursa sat down and just thought about what it would be like to have that time— time to see Alrich, Sabine, Bo-Katan, once again. Time to say sorry, to treasure their moments together, to be less cold with those she loved. 

Sentimental was not a word to describe Ursa, or so she told herself. Under no circumstance would she be so, and the fact remained, that she wasn’t: she just wished things could be different. Though wishing didn’t really describe it either. More of a passing thought, a brief lingering on a possibility— what if Bo was here? If Alrich was by her side? If Sabine... no. She wouldn’t allow herself to fantasise about scenarios far beyond her reach. That wasn’t her. It wasn’t  _Ursa_.  It wasn’t sensible to yearn for a different reality.

Yet a memory, a hope— they weren’t yearns for a different life. They were simply what they were.

* * *

“ _Bo_ _?” Ursa bit her lip, eyes not diverting from her lap._

_ Her friend looked round with a small smile, jumping down from the Kom’rk she’d been mending. “What is it?”  _

_ Ursa smirked back again, and suddenly felt stronger. What use was it, being afraidof announcing something? Mandalorians weren’t afraid.  She  wasn’t afraid. After glancing around to make sure they were completely alone, she said it. _

_ “I’m pregnant.” There, done. Ursa watched with vague amusement as Bo-Katan’s mouth opened wide, opening and closing like a goldfish. _

_ “That’s... congratulations!” Bo looked genuinely happy, but a shadow crossed her face. “What if Pre finds out?” _

_ Ursa sighed; she’d mulled over the likelihood many times. _

_ “He’s going to, obviously,” she replied, “but we’ve just got to hope the baby doesn’t look too much like Alrich...” she trailed off, frowning. _

_ “They’ll be a carbon copy of you, I’m sure of it,” Bo placed a hand on her friend’s still-flat stomach, smiling gently.  _

_ “What? Even if they’re a boy?” Ursa snorted, but she really didn’t feel in the mood for humour. Bo punched her lightly on the shoulder with a roll of her eyes.  _

_ “You know what I mean.” And she did. All the way, she did. Biting her lip, Ursa leaned back onto the wall, and Bo removed her hand from her stomach. _

_ “You ok?” She asked, hands moving up to grasp Ursa’s. _

_ She forced a smile, “Alrich is ecstatic. He’s already gone crazy over the whole thing...” she trailed off, unsure of what to say. She was happy too, of course. Happier than she could recall being for a while now, but a worry still niggled at the back of her mind. Bo caught on, and her hands squeezed Ursa’s tighter, “I didn’t ask about Alrich, vod. I asked about you. What is it?” _

_ What was it? She knew, of course, but what it was sounded weak. Clinging on to the tiniest of things and evaluating every bad possibility wasn’t good. She shouldn’t, yet she did. But she could tell Bo, right? Bo, who she trusted with everything, who was like a sister to her. _

_ “Well, we’re in fucking Death Watch, Bo. I can’t exactly fight when it gets big... and... I just don’t think I’ll be a good mother.” Bo raised her brows in surprise at Ursa’s words, but let her elaborate. “It’s only that I never had the best example, growing up— my parents didn’t exactly love me, and...” she trailed off, unsure of how to continue.  _

_ It wasn’t long before she felt Bo’s arms wrap around her, holding her close, enveloping her in a comforting hug. _

_ “It’ll be alright,” she whispered, and Ursa reached out to return the embrace, “It will, you will, the baby will.” And for the first time since she was a child, Ursa found herself sobbing. Fat, wet tears, soaking her friend’s shoulder. She was crying for her friend, her husband, this unborn child,  herself;  crying for the past, the present, the future.  _

_ It felt right, in away, this show of emotions. Emotions that she so often locked away, kept to herself. She was stronger than to cry, to show that type of weakness, yet now she was, and everything felt so much more free. Like it was meant to be.  _

_ A weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and for once it wasn’t after her own toil. _

* * *

That memory always twisted her heart into an odd shape, because she  hadn’t been a good mother. She’d failed her daughter, failed her family. 

What sort of parent abandoned their child? What sort of person tore one of the people they loved most in the world straight out of their life? The wound was still fresh, image of when it had happened still sharp in her mind. If only there had been more time. More time spent without Saxon’s grip manipulating everything to his liking. 

* * *

_“Mamma?” The door pushed open, the tiny figure of her daughter outlined in the frame._

_Ursa frowned slightly, “what is it, ad’ika?” It was almost 2 in the morning. Sabine should be asleep, and had been for the past 6 hours._

_“I had a bad dream.” She suddenly broke into a run, leaping up to her mother and pressing her face into Ursa’s shoulder. Ursa went tense for a second, but pulled Sabine’s tiny body in close, planting a kiss on her forehead._

_“Do you want to talk about it?”_

_Sabine moved to look up at her with wide eyes._

_“But I don’t want you to get scared too!”_

_Ursa smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her daughter’s face._

_“Don’t worry, I don’t get scared.”_

_“There was a tall, scary guy,” Sabine mumbled, pushing her face into her mother’s shoulder once again, “With white armour.” Her face crumpled up, and Ursa’s heart skipped a beat. This person sounded just like— no. She wouldn’t think about that now. Sabine continued her explanation, “He took me away, and hurt me, and daddy too, and...”_

_“Shh, Sabine. It was just a dream, okay? You’re going to be alright. I wouldn’t let anyone take you away. Or your father.” She planted another kiss on her daughter’s head, but soon changed her tone, and abruptly stood up, taking Sabine’s hand._

_“Now, it’s far past your bed time. Come on, ad’ika. Time to sleep.”_

_Sabine yawned, and sh smiled at the tiny girl beside her. “What about you though, buir? Aren’t you tired?”_

_ “I’ve got to do my work, Sabine. Don’t worr y  about me.” Her child nodded her head, so accepting of her overload of work, and so oblivious to it. They took each other’s hands, Ursa leading Sabine back to her room, where the girl fell asleep almost instantly.  _

_Eyes warming, she watched her daughter from the door— each tiny sigh or flutter of eyelids, every stir in the otherwise peaceful sleep. It was hard not to drop down immediately herself, but she remained standing long enough to exit the room and enter her and Alrich’s quarters._

_After taking a glance at her already-sleeping husband, she silently stripped of her armour and slid in beside him. A slight groan omitted from Alrich as the bed sank down. He was usually a light sleeper._

_“It’s late, Urs’ika,” he mumbled, eyes still closed, “You work to hard.”_

_“I do what is needed.” Her reply was short and sharp, but her tone softened at the next words, “Sabine had a nightmare.”_

_Alrich opened his eyes suddenly, turning to face her._

_“Is she OK?”_

_“Yeah, back to sleep again. It wasn’t anything major.” Or was it?_

_“Good.” Alrich sighed contentedly, then hugged her close, hands tangled in her now-loose hair. After a final kiss on her forehead, like those Sabine had received before, they both fell asleep._

* * *

She hadn’t kept her promise. She’d allowed them to be taken away— Sabine and Alrich both. Hadn’t protested, hadn’t even tried to stop it. She was a terrible mother, and a terrible wife. Her tiny daughter, the man she loved most in the world. Gone.  
  


* * *

_ The cold hit Ursa’s cheeks, spreading its icy hand across her face. It felt good, though, and she was used to it, so tilted her face upwards to take the full force. She closed her eyes, just concentrating on the feeling— of the snowflakes fluttering down and sharp, sweet air. _

_ “Ursa?” footsteps sounded from behind her, coming gradually closer. A small smile formed on her face at the sound of her husband’s voice, and it grew as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She took his hands in her own, pulling them more tightly around her, eyes still closed, face still looking up. _

_ “It’s cold.” Alrich was shivering. _

_ “I’ll be fine,” the smile grew wider, “compared to what I used to do as a child, this is practically warm.” _

_ He snorted, pressing his face into her hair, “and what did you used to do, exactly?” _

_ For the first time, she opened her eyes, “running around bare-foot in snow, the likes. Definitely normal.” _

_ Prising his hands off and taking them in her own, she turned around. His eyes were wide. Having lived in Mandalore’s hot, dryclimate for the majority of his life, Alrich wasn’t exactly used to the temperature of her home planet yet.  _

_ “I’m surprised you didn’t freeze to death.” He leaned down. _

_ “Yeah, me too,” their lips connected in a gentle kiss. The air might be cold on the outside, but her heart had never felt more warm. _

_ “It feels strange to be back here again, away from Death Watch,” she admitted, once they had broken apart. A sudden and rare shadow over passed over his face, “I’m glad you’re here, cyar’ika. And even if you wanted to fight, there are no battles to be fought.”  _

_ Ursa looked down, “I know.” A rare laugh escaped her lips, “Anyway, I’m needed here for Sabine, and this little one,” She placed a hand on her stomach, smiling. Alrich followed suite, but his hand against hers was frozen cold. With a roll of her eyes, she guided him inside, “come on, cyare. You don’t seem to have the same immunity to the weather as I do.” _

_ “That I don’t,” he grinned a goofy grin, and she flopped down on their bed, back in the warmth. Ursa was going to become a mother again, after the next few months, and she hoped for it to be in a better situation than last time.  _

* * *

A knock sounded on the door. Tristan. 

“Mum? Can I come in?” After straightening herself up, she called out her admittance, and her youngest, no,  only,  child walked in. 

He didn’t look good. Then again, she probably didn’t either. 

Looking into his eyes, she saw herself. Tristan had inherited most of her looks, but the fear they now possessed was something she so wished she could show. He bit his lip, swallowing. “Will S...Sabine ever come back?” 

That was when she closed her eyes, flooded them with memories, pursed her lips. 

“No, Tristan. She is no longer my daughter, or your sister. She will never come back.”  She would. She was still her daughter. She still loved him.

Ursa pretended not to notice the tears threatening at Tristan’s eyes, and willed them not to come out from her own.

“And... Father? Will he...”

“I really don’t know Tristan,” she cut off, “I really don’t know. I think it’s time to go to bed?” He shouldn’t stay any longer. He shouldn’t see her feelings. Not now, not ever. 

“Yes, mother.” Tristan walked out of the room, head bowed. She loved him, she didn’t want to hurt him, she really, truly, didn’t; but she had. She’d hurt everyone, including herself. 

This was all her fault. Everything. Her hands curled into fists, and a cry slipped out. It took all of Ursa’s strength not to plummet the wall with her fists, to let her anger out on an inanimate object. Instead, she just collapsed on the bed, sobbing, wishing for that time she so wanted. Ursa was trapped in tear-stained memories, and couldn’t escape. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this. The format is interesting— 3 memories with 3 different people (one each, in a sense), but placed in a slightly strange order. I tried to make them flow from one to the next, but it didn’t really work 😂  
> I don’t know if anyone’s really noticed, but we get a mention of Sabine in the first, then she’s the focus of the second. We get a mention of Alrich in the second, and he’s the focus of the third. We get a mention of Tristan in the third, and he’s the present-time focus.
> 
> This is dedicated to MandoGab, for absolutely everything. You’ve really helped me find my confidence, even as such a terrible writer, and thank you SO much for that!!  
> Also to Xenon912— you’ve always been so supportive, and write really good works :D
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!! Comments would be greatly appreciated 💛❤️


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